


Painted Canvas

by thesoundofnat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bruises, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, not actually abuse, rough sex mention, the avengers are concerned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: “What’s that?”“What?”“On your arm.” She grabbed one of his wrists, which he’d been smart enough to cover with sweatbands, and moved closer, inspecting his skin. “It’s bruised.”“Oh, that.” He slipped his hand out of her grip. “A silly accident. Nothing to worry about. It’s healing.”(Or, The Avengers notice that Tony has a bunch of bruises on his body, but he won’t give them proper answers.)





	Painted Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: references to abuse/violence, though no abuse or violence actually takes place. Description of bruises, though not very graphic. Mentions of sex.

Clint had been staring at him for ten minutes before he noticed.

Now, Tony wasn’t self conscious of his appearance. He appreciated when people enjoyed the view, but there was something about Clint’s expression that told him he wasn’t admiring his features.

He cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

Clint didn’t blink. “What’s that on your wrist?”

Tony glanced down. “A watch.”

“Under the watch.”

Ah. Okay.

“It’s a bruise,” Tony said, resisting the urge to withdraw his hand.

“It’s a big bruise. Does it stretch around your whole wrist?”

“Possibly.”

“When did you get it?”

“Not sure. It’s healing.”

“Is it from a battle?”

“Probably.”

“How did that happen in your suit?”

“How should I know? I’m always black and blue, I don’t keep track.”

Clint’s eyes were narrowed. “You’ve gone through great lengths to hide it.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You’re wearing long sleeves in the summer.”

“I’m a cali boy. I’m used to heat.”

“And that watch has a rather thick band.”

“It’s just a coincidence, Barton.”

“I’m just saying.”

Tony grabbed his coffee cup, glancing at said watch and wishing for the stupid meeting to start. “I’m acknowledging your observation skills, okay? But this time you’re incorrect.”

The door opened, Fury shuffling in with the other Avengers in tow. Thank god.

Clint kept staring at him until Steve pulled up a chair and sat down between them. The staring turned into a glare.

“I hope I am,” he finally said as Fury started talking. Tony only had time to raise an eyebrow, Steve to frown in confusion, before he’d turned away from them.

All right then.

* * *

 

Tony hadn’t been to the gym in ages and it was starting to show, so he joined Steve and Natasha early in the morning for a sparring session.

“Why does it have to be early again?”

“Better just get over and done with,” Nat said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “And it helps you wake up.”

“I can wake up just fine in three hours.”

“Come on,” Steve said, giving his side a squeeze. “You’re up and here now. Stop complaining.”

“Who’s complaining? I’m merely inquiring.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

Tony rolled up his already short sleeves a bit, purely to show off his biceps better. To tempt Steve a little bit. Couldn’t help it.

But Steve was already wandering off, going for a treadmill to probably do some light jogging before they started as if he hadn’t been on a run earlier when Tony was still struggling to get out of bed.

Nat got to witness the glory of his arms all by herself instead, but her narrowed eyes was not the reaction he’d expected (not that he’d expected her to really do  _anything_ , to be honest). “What’s that?”

“What?”

“On your arm.” She grabbed one of his wrists, which he’d been smart enough to cover with sweatbands, and moved closer, inspecting his skin. “It’s bruised.”

“Oh, that.” He slipped his hand out of her grip. “A silly accident. Nothing to worry about. It’s healing.”

He knew the greenish misery looked terrible, covering his bicep, just shy of his shoulder, in an almost artistic circle, as if someone had slapped handcuffs onto the wrong body part. He’d forgotten all about it, for a brief moment. Stupid.

Natasha didn’t say anything else about it. Tony was surprised she’d said anything at all. He must’ve really caught her by surprise if she slipped out of her perpetual observational role. Wondering just how he could’ve been injured when he was in a suit half the time and hadn’t sparred in weeks.

He cleared his throat. “Steve, you done?”

Steve was on the treadmill, not even breaking a sweat. “Give me a minute.”

Nat was looking at Steve in a way Tony couldn’t understand, but then again, when was he ever able to interpret her expressions?

“I didn’t wake up at dawn to wait for you.”

“Drama queen.”

Natasha insisted on sparring with him, practically ordering Steve to the punching bag because “that way you can use all your strength on a target that can handle it”. Tony might’ve protested if it hadn’t been true.

* * *

 

Thor noticed his discomfort pretty much as soon as the hug started and let go immediately. “My apologies. I thought we were on those terms.”

Tony waved a hand at him. “No, no, we are, don’t worry. Well, I’m not really saying you need to hug me every time you see me, but you were gone for three months and I kinda missed you, so  _that_ was fine.”

“But you were squirming. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“You just surprised me, s’all.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re lying?”

“Well, all right, I might have some bruises around my ribs. Nothing serious.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“I want to see.”

“Uh, no. Not gonna happen.”

“Stark, you have a tendency to downplay your injuries.”

“Trust me, if it was bad Steve would’ve been on my case.” But he could tell the god wasn’t backing down, so he quickly raised his shirt and flashed the blue spots for a second, but it was enough for Thor’s eyes to widen.

“Those look fresh.”

“They are.”

“How did you get them?”

“Does it matter?”

“I reckon not, but-”

“But?”

Thor didn’t say anything (why did everyone keep doing that?). Only looked him so intently in the eyes that Tony felt the need to run.

“Oh, would you look at the time.”

“Are those bruises on your wrist, too?”

Lord help him.

* * *

 

The fire alarm started ringing so unbelievably loudly and suddenly that Tony didn’t have time to think. Didn’t have time to process the fact that someone had probably just burned their bacon and that JARVIS would have it all under control and that there really was no need for him to fly out of bed and rush out into the hallway in just his underwear. But apparently a half asleep Tony Stark couldn’t think rationally.

He had no idea what Bruce was doing on his floor, or where Steve actually was (a half asleep Tony Stark didn’t remember that Steve Rogers never slept in), and he blinked blearily at his friend. “What’s going on?”

“I have no idea.”

“JARVIS, what’s going on?”

“Mr Barton burned his breakfast.”

“Of course he did. He got it under control?”

“Yes, sir.”

The fire alarm went blissfully silent, and Tony shut his eyes for a moment in order to gather his thoughts. “What a morning, huh.” Bruce looked more shaken up than Tony had seen him in a while. “Hey, it’s okay. No one’s burned to death.” He knitted his eyebrows together. “The big guy’s not gonna come out, is he?”

“It’s not that.”

“Oh, good. You know I’m fond of him, but I’ve had enough action for first thing in the morning. Now I need coffee. And food you can’t burn.”

“Tony.”

“Hmm?”

“What’s happened to you?”

“Clint Barton’s happened to me- oh.” He followed Bruce’s wide eyed gaze to his own person, finding his skin splattered in bruises of various stages of healing and sized. Almost like a painting. “This.”

“What is this, exactly?” Bruce’s voice trembled ever so slightly, not enough time to control it. “I mean-  _how_?”

Tony shifted. It had been a while since someone other than Steve had looked at his bare skin so thoroughly. “It’s nothing, Brucie, don’t worry about it. They don’t bother me.”

“But how did they get there?”

“It’s not important. Look.” He held up his hands, as if surrendering. “I’m tired. My heart is still freaking out over the alarm. I just need to go lie in bed for a moment before getting dressed and heading for the kitchen and go about my day. What are you doing up here anyway?”

He wandered off, giving Bruce one last glance before going into his room. Bruce was gone when he returned fifteen minutes later.

He had a feeling he wasn’t about to have a calm day.

* * *

 

He was right. The whole team, sans Steve, approached him only twenty minutes later when he was just finishing his breakfast.

“We need to talk.” Natasha’s voice was surprisingly gentle.

He lowered his cup. “Is this an ambush?”

“Something like that.”

“Should I be worried?”

She didn’t answer, only turned to meet Bruce’s eye. “You’re sure?”

His nod was almost nonexistent. “Positive.”

“What’s going on?” Tony had a vague feeling that he knew, but he simultaneously felt like he had no clue of what was about to come out of their mouths.

“Is Steve… aggressive with you?” He’d never heard Nat speak so carefully. “This isn’t something I ever thought I’d ask because he’s the last person I would suspect of something like this, but the evidence is too striking.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does he hit you, is what she’s asking.”

Tony’s eyes snapped to Clint. “What? Is  _that_ what you think is happening?”

“Your body is full of bruises,” Bruce said, his voice so quiet that Tony barely heard it due to the blood pumping in his ears. “You refuse to give proper answers.”

Tony rubbed his eyes. “Oh, for god’s sake. Steve doesn’t  _hit_ me.”

“Then what-”

“They’re sex injuries, all right?”

A stunned silence as Tony tried to collect himself, barely having time to enjoy their shocked expressions before Clint said, “What the fuck, Stark.”

He shrugged. “You asked.”

“How can sex leave you all black and blue?”

“Even though it’s none of your business,” he started, crossing his arms. “I like it rough and Steve likes giving me what I want. Don’t worry, though. It’s very consensual and he checks on me all the time.”

“Holy shit, are you into BDSM?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “No. Not all of it.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging.”

He pointed at Clint. “This is the last time I ever discuss my sex life with you. But. Handcuffs.”

“The bruises on your wrists.”

“Right. He did something particularly good and I ended up pulling too hard as I came. You wanna know more?”

Natasha held up her hands. “No thank you. Those mental images will haunt me forever.”

He smirked. “None of you can tell me you don’t find those images at least a little hot.”

“ _No_ , Tony.”

“Oh, and Steve’s a biter. And a scratcher. A lot of my marks are scratches and hickeys, but the bruises overpower them.”

“ _Stark_.”

“The bruises on my hips and ribs are from Steve holding onto me as he-”

They fled. It was kind of hilarious. Only Thor remained, one eyebrow raised as he said, “This is a part of both you and Captain Rogers I never would’ve expected.”

“Well, I don’t think you spend a lot of time imagining what we do in bed.”

“That is true.”

Tony shifted. “I appreciate the concern, by the way. I know it probably looked sketchy. Tell the others, will you?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll go tell Steve purely to see how offended he’ll be that you thought he’d ever hurt me without consent.”

* * *

 

Steve was both enraged and astonished, leaving him fumbling with his notebook as he tried to gather his wits. “ _What_?”

“I mean, I find it as ridiculous as you do, but at the same time it looked pretty suspicious.”

“Why didn’t you just tell them when they noticed your bruises?”

“You really think I thought they thought you  _abused_ me? Wow, that was an exhausting sentence.” He sat down on the bed, knee touching Steve’s. “I thought they suspected me of being extremely clumsy and having a bit of a death wish.”

Steve shook his head. “Clint’s been hostile toward me for  _days_ , and I couldn’t understand why.”

Tony poked his thigh. “You’re not mad they thought you were capable of hurting me?”

“Of course I am, but-”

“But?”

“I mean, usually people ignore the signs and refuse to believe the victims. At least I know they genuinely care about you and would kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt you. Including me.” Steve put the notebook aside and reached out to grab Tony’s hand. “I can’t be mad about that.”

Tony hummed, lacing their fingers together. “It’s a rather serious accusation.”

“It is.”

“Should’ve seen their faces when I explained our sex life to them.”

Steve groaned. “You didn’t.”

“Of course I did. I had to prove them wrong, didn’t I?”

“Did you say that it’s all consensual?”

“Obviously. They ran away, though.”

“They did?”

“Practically fled. It was ridiculous. I just defeated half the Avengers with my words. Thor was the only one who stuck around.”

Steve was laughing. “Oh man, you think JARVIS can play back the footage for me?”

“Probably. But you know, all this talk of sex has left me kind of needy.”

“You’re always needy.”

“As if you don’t like it.” He leaned closer. “My canvas is looking bleak. Would you mind painting me some more?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve said, grabbing his shoulders and rolling them over. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Only one way to shut me up.”

“Oh, I’m on it.”

* * *

 

After that, the reactions to his occasional bruises ranged from uncomfortable avoidance of the topic and knowing smirks.

**Author's Note:**

> If you thought this needed more warnings of some sort, please tell me!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://thesoundofnat.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
